The Perfect Gift

“Sorry about that,” I said conversationally, never taking my eyes off of the night sky to look at her as I spoke.

“Sorry about what? I can’t see that you’ve done anything you shouldn’t have.”

“No, I know,” I said. “I just can’t imagine that you girls love being on restroom duty for grown men.”

“Doesn’t bother me. It’s just part of the job, right? Besides, it’s not like I’m going to go very far while we’re up here.”

“True, very true,” I said. “Not unless you’ve got some serious skills nobody knows about, skills like sprouting wings.”

"No, unfortunately, I've got nothing like that. Can you imagine, though?"

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean what if we could? What if we could just take off and fly all on our own? I literally can’t imagine anything more amazing than that, especially on a night like this.”

“A night like what?”

“A night so beautiful,” she said. “I mean, look how clear the sky is right now! Look at all of those stars. It makes the whole world look more beautiful, you know? It makes everything, even the things that are only ordinary in the day, feel like it’s made of magic. At least for me. I’ve always loved the way it looks to fly at night, especially when we’re over the cities. There’s just something about it.”

“You know what? If I’m being honest? I’ve never thought about it that way.”

I could see her embarrassment at how quickly I dismissed her zealous description of a night flight, and part of me wanted to deck myself in the face. If I was trying to get her into bed, this was probably not the way to do it.

On the other hand, something about the way she spoke was sort of interesting to me. It was more interesting to me than I had expected it to be, just as she'd been when I had spoken to her earlier. It was enough to make me want to further explain myself, which was something I almost never did.

“I guess I don’t think about life that way,” I said. “I don’t think about flying that way.”

"You take a much more matter of fact, business approach to it, don't you?” she asked. “That would be my guess anyway, if I had to make one."

“I guess you could say that. I’ve never thought much about the beauty of the world around me while I fly. I’ve never thought about the beauty of any of it, aside from the act of flying itself. That’s what I love. The ability to do it. I love that I can fly when so many other people don’t have a clue how to do it.”

Jess laughed and tucked a lock of her almost white blonde hair behind one ear. As she looked out of the wide cockpit windows, there was a split second where I wanted to take it all back. I had told her the God's honest truth. There was no denying it. I never looked at the land below me and considered it to be beautiful. I didn't consider it to be much of anything, but when I looked at Jess looking at the world rushing by below us I could almost see what she was talking about. She looked from the dark world to me and laughed again, making me feel self-conscious for the first time in as long as I could remember.

“Laughing at me, huh?” I asked. “Can’t say that happens to me all that often.”

“No, I’m not. I promise. I was actually laughing at myself. It’s just that my daughter is always telling me that I can find the good in anything, including a cardboard box. This might be exactly the kind of thing she’s talking about.”

“A daughter, huh? I didn’t realize. How old is she?”

"She's ten, going on a hundred,” Jess said, smiling. “She's sort of a smart-ass, which is one of the reasons I adore her."

“I bet.” I smiled along with her, trying to figure

out how I had so badly misread this situation. “Doesn’t seem like the worst quality a daughter could have. Does she get it from you or from your husband?”

“I don’t know. A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B, I guess.”

“And what does he do?” I asked. “Your husband, I mean.”

“He doesn’t.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I’m sorry, why would you? That was a cryptic answer if ever there was one. He was an architect. That’s what he did. He passed away, though.”

“Shit,” I said. “Jess, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been prying. I’m sorry to bring up painful things.”

"Please, don't feel bad,” she said. “I don't. I loved him very much, but he passed away a little more than five years ago. I still miss him sometimes, but I've made my peace with it. Cancer is a really ugly thing, and he's better off now. I know that's the kind of thing people always say, which makes it mean a lot less, but I believe it."